3
“I’ll probably be home late today,” Aaron tells me before he leaves for work. Surprise, surprise.
“Okay. No problem. I have plans after work anyway.”
He tilts his head, clearly not expecting that response, because I never have plans. “Huh. Okay. Talk to you later.”
“Bye,” I say with a forced smile.
He gives me his own smile before getting into his black Yukon Denali and backing out of the garage. As soon as he’s gone, I drop the smile and roll my eyes.
“Working late. Pft,” I say out loud.
I yank open the door to my silver Grand Cherokee and climb in, heading to work as well. The weekend went by quickly, as it seems to always do. He worked in his office a lot, and I spent my time giving the house a good scrub down. We had dinner together Sunday, because he said he felt bad for spending so much time working on Saturday.
If you didn’t know better, you’d never expect anything to be wrong with us. We still talk about work, our families, friends, or whatever might be on TV. It’s stilted conversation, but conversation nonetheless. We don’t argue excessively, not like you’d expect. Our relationship is more like that of roommates than a marriage. We get along well enough, and have almost no intimacy.
Even though I saw him at the hotel with the redhead, I have no physical evidence that they had sex. Like I said, it didn’t look like she had just had sex, but maybe she did. She did come down before him, and if they had been together, wouldn’t they have left together? But why was he there in the first place? He’s clearly keeping something from me because a married man doesn’t need to have a hotel room and a different account to pay for it. I need proof before I confront him, because I’m not going to have him trying to make me feel stupid again, and the Have an Affair website isn’t enough. He’ll come up with some bullshit excuse about how he never used it, and I need evidence that he can’t talk himself out of.
I’ll admit that it’s difficult to be around him sometimes, and not just because I’m hurt and angry at him, but because I still love him. I’ve known him for so long and have so many good memories with him. When he hugs me or kisses my forehead, I feel the tears burning the back of my eyes, because I wish things could be different. Why does he have to want other women? Why isn’t he happy with just me? I end up having to push away from him and walk off, trying to fight back tears, because I don’t want him to question why I’m crying.
Aaron has his moments when he’s the Aaron I fell in love with. He’s not a complete asshole every day, and sometimes I wish he was. Maybe it would be easier. He still tells me he loves me, and he makes plans for the future, like a trip we should take, or how he’s thinking we should go away for a holiday. It’s confusing as hell, and I don’t understand him.
Then there’s those times where he’s locked away in his office and I know he’s talking to another woman. I can hear the way his voice changes. It’s softer than it is when he’s talking to his friends. It breaks my heart that he sounds happy when he talks to them. He’ll come out and say he has to go by his office at work for something, but I know better. He’s meeting her. Whoever she is. Maybe there’s more than one.
He’s constantly responding to emails and messages, and even if some happen to be work related, or from his friends, I can’t help but think it’s from another woman every single time.
Every.
Single.
Time.
Imagine how your heart feels when that little ping goes off and all you think is that he’s talking to another woman. What could he be saying? Is he complimenting her? Is he making plans with her? Does he love her?
My trust has been broken, and he’ll never get it back.
He apologized when he was caught before, but apologies mean nothing when you continue to do the same shit.
Telling him that I have plans after work today was a lie. I don’t have any plans, but maybe I’ll start doing things he’s been doing. I can stay out late, or have Janna or Carmen text me late at night, and not tell him who I’m talking to. Is it immature? Maybe. But I want him to get a taste of what I go through. Maybe I just want to see if he’s even capable of being jealous. Is he worried I could cheat on him, or is that not even a concern for him?
If he were to be jealous, I’d at least know he cares. Feeling indifferent is the worst thing that could happen.
When I get to work, Scott and Anne are the only ones there. Scott Monroe practices family medicine in his own clinic, and he’s such a good man to work for. He was my doctor when I was growing up, so we have a good, longstanding relationship. Scott’s in his early sixties, has a full head of white hair, and while he’s put on a few extra pounds lately, it’s not like he’s too out of shape.
Anne’s one of the receptionists and is probably the perfect person for the job. She has a bubbly personality and is one of the friendliest people I know. The patients love her. We all love her.
We have a few nurses here, me being one of them, and we just recently lost our other receptionist. It’s not a huge clinic, but it’s a nice one. Dr. Monroe has put a lot of time and money into this place, making it feel more inviting than your typical doctor’s office.
The waiting area has coffee and water available for everybody, a large flat screen adorns the wall, and the furniture is soft and comfortable. Instead of hard, chrome-legged chairs, we have chairs you’d wish were in your living room.
We have a beautiful fireplace that we use during the winter. In typical Alaska fashion, a large moose head is mounted above it. When you walk into the clinic, you get a very rustic, cabin vibe. It’s like walking into a vacation spot rather than a medical clinic. We’ve found it puts the younger kids at ease, and Scott was sure to have a little play area for them with their own TV that only plays cartoons.
“Good morning, Anne,” I greet.
“Morning, Aria. How was your weekend?”
“Oh, you know. Same ol’ stuff,” I answer honestly. “How was yours? Did you and Nick go out?”
Her face lights up. “We did! He got us a reservation at Glacier Brewhouse, and we stuffed our faces with crab cake appetizers, and he got the grilled ribeye, and I got the king crab legs. I ended up having to take like half of it home, but it was so good! We tried some of their handcrafted ales, and they were delicious, too!”
Anne tends to ramble on when she’s excited, but she always puts a smile on my face, so I don’t mind it.
“I’m glad you had a good time. Bet you didn’t even think about turning thirty-three,” I say with a cheeky smile.
“Shush!” she says with a laugh. “I had almost convinced myself I was twenty-five again.”
“You look twenty-five, so it’s okay.”
She waves her hand at me and turns to go through some papers. Anne was freaking out over getting older, but I think it’s mostly because her boyfriend, Nick, is younger than her at twenty-nine. He worships her, though, and they are the most adorable couple you’ll ever see.
Anne’s short black hair frames her angular face perfectly. Her smile is wide and beautiful, and her big brown eyes are framed by thick, dark lashes. Nick hovers over her five foot five frame with his six foot two frame. His caramel colored hair is a bit long and thick, but he pulls the look off well. His square jaw is strong and covered by a bit of a beard that Anne loves.